gripped tight in his hand. "Please."
He obliged.
If there's anything a biker bitch learns, it's how to stroke egos, how to appease a megalomaniac. How to soothe a monster. Not that any of my bikers were monsters. Even Gunner wouldn't do this. But I had known a monster before them. And I was older and better equipped for it now.
◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙
I still had no plan outside of "keep your enemies close," but even that much was enough to hold the nightmares at bay. Clinging to a purpose, vague as it was, finally woke me up. At least, it did as far as the drugs would allow.
I scoped out the other girls. We sat around together backstage every night, smoking, waiting our turn, silent. Still I decided against trying to talk to them. Truth is, I was too fucked up, drugged out, when that part of the night rolled around. I'd watch them moving as if through a light, hazy fog, slowly, like time itself was crawling.
I considered some of the patrons. Cruel men with twisted mouths and vicious hands. What help could they be?
Viper himself spilled hints and bits of information as I got closer to him, but nothing that would help me to escape his hell.
I tried to spend as much time with him as I could. He sent other girls away, choosing my company over theirs. I considered it a success. I somehow thought that if I stayed close, got him to like me or at least to appreciate what I did for him, then maybe he wouldn’t hurt me so much. Maybe he wouldn’t twist my arm before giving me the injection. Maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to kick me when I was in his way. Maybe he’d quit shoving me to the ground.
It didn’t really work. It was naive to think it would, especially with a monster like him.
“We’re going to wipe out that whole club of yours,” he’d taunt. I wanted to ask why they weren’t successful yet. What was the hold-up?
I tried to phrase the question diplomatically. “Think it will happen soon?” But “soon” was always the answer. “I guess they’ve been fighting back pretty hard.” They hadn’t had an all-out gunfight “yet.” “Aren’t there more Eagles than Devils?”
That opened up a few answers. “Yeah, but they ain’t all in town. They’re out on some dumb shit mission with their pussy president. We’ll be out of here before they even get back.”
I knew how to translate that. He was doing something against the president’s wishes. He didn’t have the full might of the Eagles behind him.
I started to notice the way the visiting bikers looked at him. Some followed his orders like loyal dogs - the types who only respected vicious and violent men. But some looked at him askew. Some brushed him off completely. And he just turned and ignored them as if that was his intention all along, as if they weren’t worth his time. Pieces were coming together.
But how much was his doing? Were the girls being snatched just him and his lackeys, or was it an Eagles sanctioned trade? What about his crusade against the Devils, and against Theo?
“You used to be a Devil,” I said. We sat at the bar after one of my dances, and for once he wasn’t in a big rush to shove me away to service another patron. It was a fairly quiet time of day, whatever time it happened to be.
“Yeah. ‘Til Theo fucked me over.”
“Why’d he do that?”
Viper snarled. “Nosy cunt.” But after another sip of his drink, he said, “Didn’t approve of some of my business ventures. Stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.” He waved at the room in front of him. “So I found a more appreciative club.”
“Did they burn off your tattoos?” I don’t know why I asked - the practice was barbaric, but all the clubs did it when they exiled a member, as far as I knew. The Devils hadn’t given anyone the boot during the time I’d been there, so I didn’t know how common the practice actually was.
He squinted at me. “Yeah. Whole lower back.”
I tried to picture Theo participating in that. Burning a
He obliged.
If there's anything a biker bitch learns, it's how to stroke egos, how to appease a megalomaniac. How to soothe a monster. Not that any of my bikers were monsters. Even Gunner wouldn't do this. But I had known a monster before them. And I was older and better equipped for it now.
◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙
I still had no plan outside of "keep your enemies close," but even that much was enough to hold the nightmares at bay. Clinging to a purpose, vague as it was, finally woke me up. At least, it did as far as the drugs would allow.
I scoped out the other girls. We sat around together backstage every night, smoking, waiting our turn, silent. Still I decided against trying to talk to them. Truth is, I was too fucked up, drugged out, when that part of the night rolled around. I'd watch them moving as if through a light, hazy fog, slowly, like time itself was crawling.
I considered some of the patrons. Cruel men with twisted mouths and vicious hands. What help could they be?
Viper himself spilled hints and bits of information as I got closer to him, but nothing that would help me to escape his hell.
I tried to spend as much time with him as I could. He sent other girls away, choosing my company over theirs. I considered it a success. I somehow thought that if I stayed close, got him to like me or at least to appreciate what I did for him, then maybe he wouldn’t hurt me so much. Maybe he wouldn’t twist my arm before giving me the injection. Maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to kick me when I was in his way. Maybe he’d quit shoving me to the ground.
It didn’t really work. It was naive to think it would, especially with a monster like him.
“We’re going to wipe out that whole club of yours,” he’d taunt. I wanted to ask why they weren’t successful yet. What was the hold-up?
I tried to phrase the question diplomatically. “Think it will happen soon?” But “soon” was always the answer. “I guess they’ve been fighting back pretty hard.” They hadn’t had an all-out gunfight “yet.” “Aren’t there more Eagles than Devils?”
That opened up a few answers. “Yeah, but they ain’t all in town. They’re out on some dumb shit mission with their pussy president. We’ll be out of here before they even get back.”
I knew how to translate that. He was doing something against the president’s wishes. He didn’t have the full might of the Eagles behind him.
I started to notice the way the visiting bikers looked at him. Some followed his orders like loyal dogs - the types who only respected vicious and violent men. But some looked at him askew. Some brushed him off completely. And he just turned and ignored them as if that was his intention all along, as if they weren’t worth his time. Pieces were coming together.
But how much was his doing? Were the girls being snatched just him and his lackeys, or was it an Eagles sanctioned trade? What about his crusade against the Devils, and against Theo?
“You used to be a Devil,” I said. We sat at the bar after one of my dances, and for once he wasn’t in a big rush to shove me away to service another patron. It was a fairly quiet time of day, whatever time it happened to be.
“Yeah. ‘Til Theo fucked me over.”
“Why’d he do that?”
Viper snarled. “Nosy cunt.” But after another sip of his drink, he said, “Didn’t approve of some of my business ventures. Stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.” He waved at the room in front of him. “So I found a more appreciative club.”
“Did they burn off your tattoos?” I don’t know why I asked - the practice was barbaric, but all the clubs did it when they exiled a member, as far as I knew. The Devils hadn’t given anyone the boot during the time I’d been there, so I didn’t know how common the practice actually was.
He squinted at me. “Yeah. Whole lower back.”
I tried to picture Theo participating in that. Burning a
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